


Dropped Stitch: Love in the Time of Hockey

by tourdefierce



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, Explicit Language, Fade to Black, Fluff, Knitting, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Madison Aftermath, NHL Lockout, Team Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tourdefierce/pseuds/tourdefierce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s absolutely unfair and inaccurate to say that Patrick’s meltdown in Madison is directly correlated to the suspicious amount of knitwear his team has been sporting over the last year. Because when you put it like that, it sounds stupid.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dropped Stitch: Love in the Time of Hockey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joyfulseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyfulseeker/gifts).



> There is a suspicious lack of porn in this. If that’s what you were wishing for, then I am truly sorry--on that I usually deliver. However, I managed to work in some people being pushed against a wall (refrigerator, really) and made out with. This story is a whole lot of fluff and a fairly silly. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy your work. I apologize for any handwaving involving timeline, call-ups from Rockford and Kaner's time in Switzerland. I did try but it's certainly not my strength. Thanks to @the_eighth_sin for the speedy beta and our host for being patient with me when it turns out I can't read properly. Any remaining mistakes are my own. 
> 
> **Prompt:** _Chicago Blackhawks, Kane/Toews. Jonny gets into crafts projects during his rehabilitation from concussions, crochets gifts for many people except Patrick. Even though Patrick has complained often and loudly of how cold his head is and how he lost the beanie his sister gave him for Christmas two years ago._

It’s absolutely unfair and inaccurate to say that Patrick’s meltdown in Madison is directly correlated to the suspicious amount of knitwear his team has been sporting over the last year. Because when you put it like that, it sounds stupid. If Deadspin had published an article framing it like that, Patrick probably would have had to defect to the KHL to spend the rest of his hockey years getting the shit kicked out of him by Russians. 

Except that is pretty much exactly what happened and it’s all fucking Jonathan Toews’s fault. 

See, Pat could have handled the slog and struggle through the first round with the Yotes. Hell, he could have even survived the single-handed asskicking Mike Smith delivered to their offense that final game. Patrick is a grown damn man. Playing hockey and not winning is pretty common, even if it still is one of the worst things in the world. What he couldn’t handle was finding out that all the stupid, lopsided knitwear his teammates had started to religiously wear in the locker room, looking proud and smug, like they were badges of honor instead of fuckugly tea cosys were actual made by Tazer. 

You know, on top of all the other shit.

Jonny knits, apparently. And he knits everything for everyone but Pat because… well, Pat doesn’t need to know why. He can fill in the blanks himself. He’s not an idiot. He just really feels like one. 

So if Pat was lying, Madison was just a terrible mistake based on the stress of stepping up in Jonny’s absence and the mess of their blowout in the playoffs. But according to his sister’s voicemail messages and one really embarrassing text message to Sharpy, Madison was mostly about Tazer leaving him out of the knitting club because Patrick has disappointed him and, “doesn’t love me like he said he might want to try, the fucking dick, because I’m not good enough for his shitty socks and he’s going back to Broshie.”

Cue the embarrassing sobbing. 

Which he blames on the alcohol and not on the knitwear because the former makes him a broody douche and the latter just… well, it kind of just makes him sad? 

Ugh.

<3<3<3

Pat doesn’t start to notice the frankly awkward amount of knitted shit in the locker room until Bollig shows up with a dark blue scarf. It’s lopsided and kind of too short, but he wears it like he just walked in with Taylor Swift’s panites and a foolproof plan to get laid on the regular. Bolly usually does pretty well as far as the ladies go, but this is a little suspect.

It gets even more suspicious like when Pat walks into the locker room after practice to see Shawzy looking pouty and Bollig failing to look anything but terribly smug. 

“I just thought it would happen to me first,” Shawzy says, petulant. If he was talking to anyone other than Bollig, Pat would think punching would be next on the agenda. 

“You know what, bud? I thought you’d be next. He’s never really liked me all that much,” Bollig says, rubbing at Shawzer’s slumped shoulders. “And it wasn’t anything touching, not like Seabs’s. I ran into him at the gym, we got to talking and well, you know how it goes.” 

“Only because I’ve heard about it. Not cause--” Shawzer shakes his head but then he smiles. It’s a pretty one, he looks happy and not super pissed like he was before. “You deserve it. Tazer’s should have gotten you something prettier though, he’s not gonna impress these rookies with that shit.” 

Patrick is so confused man. What the actual fuck. 

He’s almost convinced himself that he hallucinated the entire thing, like dehydration or the release of the lactic acid in his legs making him crazy. But when he rolls into Duncs’ house, he and Seabs are playing Call of Duty and wearing matching socks. 

Really ugly matching socks. 

“Does Kelly-Rae know you two have upgraded your relationship to matching clothes?” 

It’s a lazy chirp, especially because matching clothes are really the least of Duncs and Seabs’ weirdo d-partner ways. But Pat isn’t going to ask them if they got them from Jonny, not outright because that sounds crazy. Not even Jonny has that shitty taste in socks. 

“If you don’t know, then we can’t help you,” Duncs sort of sneers before Seabs punches him in the thigh and curses at him. 

“Someday, Peeks,” Seabs says looking superior and a lot like he’s _pitying_ Pat. 

He hopes the horrified expression is enough to get them to forget this ever happened. 

“Fine, whatever. Be freaks,” Pat says, delightfully watching as Duncs rubs the knot out of his thigh. “Your matching socks can’t save you from my Call of Duty wrath, suckers.”

He forgets about it, for the most part, except when Seabs’ big toe makes an escape out of the gaping hole and instead of looking pissed off about some drafty damn sock Jonny gave him, he looks fond.

<3<3<3

He’s not jealous.

It’s just that… Jonny’s not really talking to him. He’s not _not_ talking to him but they’re sort of on a break. Jesus. That sounds like some high-school bullshit. They’re not going steady or something stupid like that. They made out a total of twice. 

Patrick hasn’t even had the chance to tap that hockey ass that makes most of Tazer’s bullshit tolerable. Like seriously, getting chewed out for twenty minutes before Jonny storms out of the locker room, clad only in those stupid boxer-briefs, makes the lecture a little bit more bearable. He’s still full of self-righteous shit but at least he looks hot while it’s happening.

Point is, they were thinking about doing a thing and then decided to not do a thing, or at least put it on hold because Jonny ran into a train with his car. _Support beam_. Whatever.

Pat is giving Jonny some space to get better because he’s the fucking man. They need Jonny back for the playoffs. The rookies are going to shit themselves if he doesn’t play. So Pat decided they could table bumping uglies until the summer.That’s right, mature and shit, yo.

These adult relationships are totally his jam.

“So why the fuck am I getting shafted out of presents?” Pat asks his condo but it doesn’t have any answers for him. 

It’s fine because he’s got practice. He can have his feeling hurt about the lack of presents from Jonny later--after they’re both back on the ice running this town.

<3<3<3

Motherfucking Coyotes bullshit.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to see another reporter for months. He wants to stop smelling ice and the sound of crushing, kick-in-the-nutz defeat. He wants to drive home and find something to eat and just lie there and wallow. And if he’s being completely honest, he wants Jonny to join him.

Stubborn, devastated, pain-in-the-ass Jonny. 

Who is currently communing with Saad, the black duckling of a rookie that Pat likes despite the fact that he’s spent most of the his call up cuddling with Tazer in the corner, all wide blue eyes and deep, brooding voice. Who sucks up to someone ask boring as Jonny? Saad, that’s who.

Pat finds it adorable for about ten seconds before he sees Jonny pull out a pair of poorly constructed mittens. They’re a candy apple red with what looks like an attempted black and white stripe on the wrists. Blackhawks mittens. 

“Here ya go, bud,” Jonny is saying. “You’ll be back. Don’t ever doubt--just, you’ll be back okay?” 

Saad looks like he’s going to fucking cry. He’s holding the mittens reverently in his hands, like they’re made of glass. Although, to be fair, they don’t look super sturdy. One of them isn’t even rounded at the fingertips but mostly pointed like a claw. 

“Thank you, Captain,” Saad says. When Jonny claps him on the shoulder, his hand lingers and migrates to cup the back of Saad’s neck and that is fucking it. 

Patrick is done.

Fuck the Yotes. Fuck ungrateful rookies. But most of all? Fuck Jonny.

<3<3<3

On the plane ride to Madison, Pat decides that Tazer must be doing the knitting himself. Like, at first, Pat thought he was buying them, but they’re super shitty so he knows they must be hand-made. When he tries to think about Andrée Toews being inadequate at anything, he feels like he might throw up--so Andrée isn’t knitting them for Jonny to pass out to his little friends.

He contemplates Jonny having a girl… like on the side or whatever. 

At that point, he’s committed to getting hammered on the plane.

<3<3<3

By the time he gets home to Buffalo, he’s 100% done with himself and like, adulthood. He’s just not cut out for it. If Jonny’s slutty knitwear thing sends him off the deep end then Pat doesn’t deserve to win anything ever. When his sisters start speaking to him about a week later, and by speaking he means shouting, he tells as much to them: about the kissing, Jonny’s head being all fucked up, how mature Pat thought he was being and then his sharp, downward flop into absolutely assholeness by not being a part of Jonny’s club.

“They all wear their shit like badges of honor,” Pat says, eyes a little red because Jackie started crying like, point five seconds into the entire encounter and he can’t not cry when his sister is, okay? “Crow even had his girl sew the doily into his pads. A doily! And here I am, Jonny’s lame wanna-be boyfriend with nothing. I didn’t even know he could knit!”

When he looks up, all three of his sisters are wearing faces of disbelief and probably a little bit horror. Pat can sympathize. 

There is a weird silence before all three of them talk at once: 

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“BOYFRIEND?”

“I am going to kill you.” 

Completely valid. 

So is: “but have you actually _talked to him_?”

<3<3<3

Obviously, his phone blows up with texts from everyone and especially their mom’s after Madison. Most of the noise is from the team, Sharpy playing it cool but supportive and guys like Shaw chirping him to the point of blatant support, and then management or his agent. It’s sort of a mess but one that Pat absolutely deserves, and he takes it with a grim smile and as many apologies as he can muster and still mean.

He gets a text from Jonny before he even leaves Madison that just says, _Patrick_. That’s totally it. Not even a fucking emoticon. But it’s enough to make Pat angry and ashamed and think about how the summer was supposed to be, before Jonny’s stupid head and the joke of their playoff exit all the way back into Buffalo. 

After the extremely awkward and unnecessary meddling of his sisters, Pat takes their advice and texts Jonny. The first few drafts aren’t his best work. But after twenty-five minutes of agony, Patrick decides that Jonny deserves some honesty and not some lame passive-aggressive text that is either seen as self-deprecating or douchey. 

_so. i sort of miss you. there. i said it._

Patrick expects silence or maybe a “fuck you” in a Jonny sort of way, or hell, in his darkest self-loathing moments, a “we’re trading your ass to Detroit” text. Instead, not three minutes later, his phone rings. 

It might just be him, but Pat is pretty sure it’s ringing kind of angrily. 

He picks it up anyway. 

“Um, yo.” 

Jonny breathes heavily at him and swears, “The fuck, Kaner? Maybe you should have thought about that before you fucked off to Madison to be a dumbass.” 

It’s fairly tame as far as Jonny goes but Pat still bristles, “Fuck you! It’s not like you were there or anything.” 

“Are you talking about for the playoffs or for you, Pat? Don’t be fucking obtuse.” 

Okay, point. Also, _obtuse_?

So he laughs, because this is ridiculous, “This is not about your weird captain shit, man,” Pat says but his voice comes out all wobbly and earnest, not sharp and authoritative like he meant it. “Just, I meant us, ya know? I miss the shit we were working on before things got fucked.” 

Jonny huffs over the line but he doesn’t hang up or mock Pat, so he counts it as a win. Pat still feels like he’s going to vom at any moment but the slick energy of completely uncharted territory slips away. The thing about Jon is that Patrick is used to feeling this weird combination of completely on his game and flat on his ass on the ice, staring at Tazer’s shark-eyes like it’s the face-off of his life. That’s why Patrick is convinced that something can really work between them because no one had made Pat feel like that before and he’s starting to think that no one ever will. Jon makes him feel like he’s always living in the most important moment of his life. Even when everything is shit and Pat has basically no idea what is going on. That’s special right? It’s got to be. 

“Is that why--” Jonny says but then he stops, makes a strangled grunting noise and continues. “Were you doubting shit between us? Is that why Madison happened?” 

Pat replies so fast, his nearly swallows his tongue. “No. Fuck no,” then he decides it probably bears repeating. “Seriously, Jon, no. Madison was just, god, what wasn’t Madison, okay? It wasn’t like, one thing that made me a drunken asshole. Nothing made me act like an idiot other than me. Got that?” 

There’s a pretty standard awkward silence but Patrick waits it out. This conversation is balls out embarrassing, for real, but it’s going about 100% better than Pat would have ever expected so he honestly can’t complain too much. He wishes he could see Jonny’s face though. Pat loves Jonny’s voice, the way it’s mostly flat and makes Pat pay attention to the subtlest shifts if he wants to get anything more from it. But Jonny’s eyes are where the real information is at. Pat’s been learning to read Jon for years--hell, he wouldn’t have survived his rookie year rooming with him if he didn’t. And anything extra Patrick could glean from Jonny’s face would be super helpful right now. 

“Okay,” Jon says. 

“Okay… or,” Pat pauses and then just says, “okay.” 

Jonny laughs. “Good talk, jesus.” 

“Oh shut up, tell me about Winterpeg,” because anything has got to be better than talking about Madison or how Pat really wants to be touching Jonny’s dick always, but with feelings. Even Winnipeg.

<3<3<3

He trains hard in Buffalo because he’s a baller professional athlete, but also because Jonny is annoyingly perceptive about his workout habits and even more persistent with his texts. For the first couple of the weeks, it’s mostly Pat texting Jonny constantly and getting nothing in response. Fairly standard considering Tazer is one of those people who still thinks his phone’s main purpose is to call people. But Patrick likes to think that his sweet, sweet influence on Jonny gets him to succumb to the future of texting.

Patrick spends the first half of his offseason training, talking to Jonny like they don’t want to bone each other and doing stupidly embarrassing shit with his sisters. Overall, a terrible summer ends up going pretty well. 

It’s hot enough that Pat doesn’t think about knitted things at all. 

He doesn’t even think about them as the convention looms. Mostly because his mind is occupied with how him and Jonny are going to get their shit together when they are actual in the same city or, you know, _not_.

Because the convention comes and goes 100% normal. 

And if that doesn’t just piss Pat right off. 

The convention is pretty damn fun. There are people everywhere, always something to do or someone to talk to and Chicago fans are amazing. It’s fun to see everyone again, it’s not like Pat doesn’t talk to any of them during the summer but it’s mostly just texts. Hell, most of the time it’s the group texts sent to everyone, so it doesn’t really feel like he’s spoken to guys like Hjammer in months. 

The thing of it is--everything is too normal. There are gruff hugs and pats on the back that would make his sisters all exclaim about their emotional deficiency but whenever Patrick gets anywhere near Jonny, it’s all “hey, buddy,” and, “you look good,” and even, “it’s nice to see you, bud.” It’s pleasant. It’s actually a little expressive for Jonny, who usually just stares at people from across the room and then finally smiles after three drinks and possibly a child coming up to him for an autograph. Pat was just expecting a little bit more. He thought they were completely passed the buddy stage of their friendship. 

He doesn’t sulk, no matter what Sharpy says. The whole thing has knocked him off kilter. It’s super anticlimactic is all. He got here expecting there to be something big to happen between him and Jonny but instead it’s the same old grind. 

The sad part is, it doesn’t make him love the fucker any less.

<3<3<3

“Did you do something to Tazer this morning?”

Pat’s trying to sort out the menu at this ridiculous restaurant that Crow insisted they eat at. It’s got like nine folds and Patrick just wants to know what they have on tap. Jesus. He puts down his menu to see what the hell Bicks is talking about. 

Sure enough, not even the dim, fancy lighting of the restaurant can hide the fact that Jonny’s definitely getting his stare on. For a moment, Pat thinks about making a face right back or like, throwing down his napkin and asking Jonny if he wants to fucking go. But he realizes that throwing down his napkin like a gauntlet is stupid and that physically fighting Jonny in public is also real dumb. 

Instead he just says, “Nah, he must have something in his eye,” before making a crude gesture at Bicks and laughing when he chokes on his water. 

Thankfully, Jonny’s staring doesn’t lead to any physical brawls or other weirdness. This is mostly thanks to Crow, who takes his place next to Jonny very seriously--drawing him out of his fits of creepiness to talk to him and the other people around them at the table. Pat just tries to ignore his big, stupid face and the strange feeling that’s settled in his stomach. 

He knew this place was going to give him indigestion.

<3<3<3

Surprising no one, Jonny strikes when Pat is coming back from the bathroom. Because a) Jonny is and always will be the biggest creep, b) that creepiness is multiplied in small hallways and c) feelings come out in the night. Fact.

“Are you cornering me by the bathrooms? Because just so you know, this is not normal behavior. Not even for captains. I asked around,” Patrick says because sarcasm is like the chasm where his feelings go to ground. 

“Can we talk?” 

Jon’s face is completely blank. Not less intense, because his gaze is solid and he’s _Jonny_ through and through. But there’s not a hint about where this all is leading. 

“Here? Because I got to tell you, not my ideal location for our bullshit,” he says because it’s the truth. If Jonny is going to be more weird or if they’re gonna sort this all out now, making out business and all, Patrick would prefer to do any and all secret gay shit in the privacy of his own home.

“No, of course not,” Jonny says, brow furrowed. “Later.”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Okay, don’t act like that’s a bizarre thing to assume since you ambushed me by the bathrooms! It’s not like I can read your mind, man. We can go back to mine after dinner I guess.” 

Jonny’s frown just deepens and Pat’s about to take back the whole thing when Jonny says, “Yeah, your place would be good.” 

Pat nods but Tazer doesn’t move, just stares at him in the bathroom hallway of this weirdass restaurant until Patrick contemplates making a break for it. Something about what he just said might have broken Jon’s brain but he can’t really pinpoint what’s the issue, in the face of Jonny’s wide, dark eyes and confused face. Finally, Jonny frowns some more and then leans in to kiss Pat. 

It’s just a peck on the cheek really, sort of close to the corner of his mouth but definitely not like Jonny’s just missed the mark. It’s intentional. Jonny lingers, face pressed up against Pat’s and when he pulls back he’s still really close. Patrick’s still processing Jonny kissing him on the cheek like he’s a ten year old fan with a crush while Tazer sort of just breathes on him, smelling faintly like garlic bread. Then Jon presses another short kiss to his cheek and walks off. 

“See you at yours,” Jonny says, disappearing back out to the table and leaving Patrick there panting from the PGest kiss he’s ever gotten and not 100% sure if he’s supposed to be sporting a semi after all of that.

<3<3<3

Patrick gets there first because Jonny always insists he needs to say goodbye to everyone with a handshake. It’s not like they won’t see each other soon. Well, he says that but there have been rumors… stirrings in the east; a black shadow moves and great evil carries itself on the wind. Okay, so it’s not as dramatic as Mordor but the way everyone is too afraid to talk about it makes him think of Lord of the Rings or some ridiculous shit.

It only takes Jonny another twenty minutes to arrive but by the time he does, Pat’s already worked himself up. Coming up with a dozen reasons why Jonny doesn’t want to do this anymore isn’t hard, especially with Madison lurking in their past and Jonny’s injury and just--Jon can’t even trust him with his fucked knitting. What the hell was Pat thinking that Jonny would trust him with something as big as them?

Pat lets him in, already biting his lip to keep him saying something he’ll regret. Tazer looks normal, relaxed from dinner and as tan as ever under the bright lights from Pat’s kitchen. He watches Jonny toe off his shoes at the entrance, even though Pat doesn’t have a shoe rack or a mat because he’s American and he prefers everyone’s smelly feet to be kept to the confines of their shoes. But Jonny is Jonny and again, it’s annoying and charming at the same time. 

“You gonna offer me a drink?” 

There’s an island between them and Pat thinks about jumping it to punch him in his smug face but he doesn’t. Instead he says, “You gonna tell me what the fuck you want to talk about?” 

Jonny shrugs, eyebrow up like Pat’s the one being weird. “Things have been good, Pat. Summer’s been good. You look--”

Patrick laughs, choking a little. “I know, Jonny. Offseason’s been good, which is why I’m real confused about coming to the convention, expecting something to change between us and everything is still the exact same way we left it.”

His face feels flushed and god, he hates this. Jonny’s just staring at him. Patrick keeps thinking about that weird kiss by the bathrooms and doesn’t fucking understand _anything_. 

“It’s like we got knocked out yesterday, keeping me at arm’s length and letting me just,” Pat sighs. He feels a little foolish now. Maybe Madison didn’t really change anything. Maybe things had already shifted before then. “It’s like we’re just buddies again. Is that what that was by the bathrooms? Your fucked attempt to be subtle and let me down easy? Because honestly Jonny? Fuck you. I can take it, alright. You want out then you better just come out and say it.” 

Pat’s breathing heavy after all that. His mouth feels dry and he really, really wants Jon to leave. They haven’t even slept together yet and here they are having the most epic breakup Pat’s had since Jenny Boucher, sophomore year of high school. 

“No,” is all Jon says. Soft but still firm. “That’s pretty much the exact opposite of what I want.” 

It’s Patrick’s turn to just stare because if he attempts to do something other than that, he’s going to explode, and give Jonny a black eye on his stupidly handsome face. Because _what_. 

“Things are normal, Pat. That’s the whole point. I just wanted,” Jonny pauses, frown back and mouth pursed. It makes his scar on his lip stand out. “This is how it always has been for me. I wanted--fuck, I just wanted you to know that nothing has changed. Everything, this thing between us and just all of this--it’s exactly the same for me.” 

He stops talking but it doesn’t help Pat process what the hell he just said. 

“What are you even talking about, Tazer?” Because someone needs to figure out what the hell is going on here. 

Jon gestures between them. “This thing between us doesn’t change anything for me, Pat. This is how it’s always been. That’s what I’ve been trying to say. It’s always been this, you and I guess, you know, _us_ , since the beginning.” 

“Are you saying that you avoided me, played it all cool during the convention after basically long distance dating me for the entire summer because you were making a point?” 

He will admit, the last bit goes a little high, but it’s only because Jonny is infuriating and it makes Pat hysterical. 

“You’re twisting my words, but--”

Pat shakes his head, his mood abruptly shifting enough to make his head spin and his chest tight. “No, no, no. I’m just trying to get us all on the same page here, Jonny. Because you’re a crazy person. But you’re obviously a crazy person who is so into doing me. If I’ve got this right, the whole point of this joke of a convention separation is that you’ve been gone on me forever, which is why nothing changes between us for you.” 

Jonny squints. “Not forever, you dick.” 

“Admit it, I’m your forever girl. That’s why you won’t put your damn hands on me because you’re like, so used to not being able to. You’ve been pining for me. Did you write me poetry? Because you sure as hell haven’t been crafting me shit for your love. My head is cold, Jonny. My closet is devoid of sloppily knitted things.” 

Pat’s grinning now. Jon is an absolute fuckwad but he’s not backing out. He’s just socially incapable of having conversations about his feelings that don’t involve some sort of fucked up sense of captainship. Not surprising. No less annoying but predictable. 

“Can I come over there and kiss you or are you gonna get pissed again about the knitting thing?” Jonny deadpans but he’s moving around the island. Pat stays put, keeps the infuriating grin on his face and waits for Jonny to come to him. 

“You might be still making a point,” Pat asks. “I wouldn’t want to step on your toes, Toews. I know how much you need to--” a kiss cuts him off and it’s nothing like the one in the restaurant. 

Jonny wastes zero time licking into Pat’s mouth. He tastes like the dry white wine he had with dinner and the garlic bread he devoured while he thought no one was looking. He tastes _amazing_ because he’s Jonny and they’ve been waiting way too long to bone for a multitude of reasons that Pat neither cares for nor really understands. 

There seem like miles of newly formed muscle for Pat to explore up and down Jon’s arms but he can’t get to all with the way Jon’s cupping his face while they kiss. It’s basically romance novel cover worthy, which Patrick is totally a sucker for so he magnanimously lets it continue. He lets his hand wander, rubbing at the long hulking muscles of Tazer’s neck and shoulders while Jonny proceeds to do filthy things to Pat’s mouth. 

There is some sort of weird caressing and sucking on his tongue that has Pat pulling them closer together so he can get pressure on his dick. If he uses Jon’s ginormous ass to pull them together and then spend a little time there, squeezing and grabbing and generally enjoying how excited he is to get his dick in there eventually--well, he’s only human. Jonny growls into his mouth and guides them both back until Pat’s back hits the smooth steel of the refrigerator. 

Pat doesn’t care if there is a magnet getting tangled in his hair because it’s a solid surface for Jonny to press him up against, the long leanness of his body grinding into Pat’s with the kind of friction that makes him want to come right then and there--if only because then they can start all over again. 

He settles for grinding his hips up until Jonny groans out a noise, whimpering a little while he worries Pat’s mouth and inserts a meaty thigh between Patrick’s legs to give him something to grind on. 

Patrick has never really been conscious of their height difference, even when everyone makes fun of how small he is, but he’s certainly aware of it now. Jonny’s not as broad as Pat, so he sort of just looms. It’s crazy hot. Patrick is torn between wanting to climb him like a tree and wanting to press him into the mattress and watch all of Pat’s bulk just sort of engulf Jonny while he grinds his dick all over that ass. 

“Fuck, Jonny,” Pat says when Jonny jerks his head back. It sort of smacks the fridge but Tazer's pulled away to make an absolute mess out of Patrick’s neck so he doesn’t mind so much. He doesn’t bite, which Patrick hopes is a personal choice because he’s gonna mark up Jonny’s shoulders like nobody’s business. But Jonny does lick and suck, bunny teeth digging into Patrick’s skin as they grind against each other. 

It’s really fucking good. 

Grudgingly worth the wait. 

Patrick hitches a leg up so that he can get a better angle on his dick, wrapping an arm around Jonny’s shoulders while he’s at it. He’s into the possessive wall making out but he thinks he’d rather wait to come until he’s actually seen Jonny’s dick. And not locker room dick, okay? That’s not the same. 

“We gonna bang right here,” Pat says, a little out of breath while Jonny’s works at this spot behind his ear and pulls at his hair. “This is how you treat your forever girl, huh? Hurried comeshots in kitchens.” 

Then again, Patrick is pretty hellbound to get a hand on Jonny’s cock, so he doesn’t really have room to talk. Jonny groans, slumping up onto him when Pat gets a hand around him through his jeans. He’s hot and heavy against Pat’s hand and there are so many plans Pat has for that dick. 

“Come on, Tazer,” Pat hisses, grinding the heel of his hand up until Jon’s hips are bucking, chasing an orgasm that they’re both dangerously close to. Patrick takes the opportunity to sink his teeth into Jonny’s shoulder and the resulting push, pull has Jonny’s mouth back on Pat’s. It’s not really kissing so much as balls to the wall mouth fucking but Pat’s dick is so wet, he doesn’t even _care_ that the kissing has lost all finesse. 

Jonny worries at Pat’s bottom lip as he pulls away to put a small sliver of space between them. Pat grins up at him because they’re both breathing hard and Jonny’s face is bright red, lips swollen and looking like he’s about to come right here. 

“Waiting on you asshole,” Jonny says. 

Pat winks, outrageous, squeezing Jonny’s dick and says, “Damn straight you are.” 

They make it to the bedroom eventually, Pat leading the way.

<3<3<3

The next morning, Patrick learns that Jonny is a trillion times more manageable in his morning funk after he’s gotten his cock sucked.

That would have made rooming with Tazer all those years so much easier. He says as much after he’s come between Jonny’s thighs and gets a punch to the gut for it. 

Ironically, Jonny’s point still stands (not that Pat would admit it) because yeah, not much has changed.

<3<3<3

The lockout comes as no surprise. Still fucking stupid because who honestly picks no hockey over hockey, but Bettman is not just a normal bag of dicks. He’s like the superman of assholes.

October 1st comes and goes. 

So Pat decides to go too. 

It’s not a big thing. His agent leaves him a message telling him that he’s got some options given the situation and to call him back. So Pat does, gets the scoop and decides to take a day. He talks it over with a few of the guys at lunch but it’s not until he gets home and Jonny calls that he feels any closer to a decision. 

Jonny calls him a lot now, which is weird for Patrick but it’s nice to hear his voice and not freak out over analyzing text messages all the time. Not that he did that before. 

They shoot the shit for a bit and Jon is the one who brings it up. “So did you get all your offers?” 

“Fuck yeah, I’m the prettiest girl at the ball, Jonny, everyone wants to fill up my dance card.” 

Jon laughs, because Patrick’s funny but it sounds strained. It’s hard to believe that Jonny didn’t get any offers to go abroad to play hockey, so that’s not why Jonny’s sounding weird and strained. It’s also not the same sound Jonny makes when Pat is trying to have phone sex with him and he’s in public with his family. That’s a familiar sound. This weirdness is different.

“You gonna go?” 

“Wait,” Pat says because it’s all sort of clicking. “You’re _not_? Because he said they’d take both of us--Jonny--”

“I can’t, Pat. You have to know that I fucking can’t,” Jon says. He doesn’t sound angry, just resigned and stressed out and goddammit, Patrick can imagine him rubbing at his eyes and neck because that’s where he carries most of his tension. 

“Is this is a captain thing?” 

“It’s a NHLPA thing,” he says. “Someone has to stay behind and help, you know, get hockey back.” 

The rest of the conversation is pretty lame. Patrick’s trying to sort everything out and Jon just sounds so sad that most of the topics are mostly excuses to stay on the line. By the time they’re ready to hang up, Pat’s ready for bed and exhausted. He’s feeling a little fragile really, alone in his massive house making pretty big decisions, while Jonny is hundreds of miles away. But he supposes it’s something he’ll just have to get used to. 

“I wish Crosby could man up and do this by himself,” Pat says before he hangs up. Jonny’s breathing heavily into the receiver like the strangest, yet most effective, sleeping aid Pat’s ever had. “Because we’d be good on international ice.” 

“Yeah,” Jon says and it’s a while before either of them hangs up.

It’s true. That’s a lot of ice to light up and it just makes it ten times harder to sign the contract knowing that Jonny’s not gonna be on the end of a pass or sitting beside him on the bench. But Patrick does it anyway because it seems like the right thing to do. There’s no dramatic goodbye because Pat flies out of Buffalo, his mom leading the way through the chaos of international travel and Jon suspiciously silent from his phone. 

Pat doesn’t even have the heart to complain about his celibacy. His chest hurts too much thinking about Jonny back in the states, fighting for hockey back in Chicago, to really think about his cock. But he’s sure that won’t last too long.

<3<3<3

Switzerland is pretty bomb for no NHL and no Blackhawks and absolutely zero Jonny.

To be fair, his mom is awesome and as much as he misses home, the pastries and cheese make up for some of it. Not that he can cheat too much but there is literally _nothing for him to do_ other than work out and play hockey. So he doesn’t feel too guilty about indulging in delicious food when life kind of sucks. 

Except his mom. He’s not an ungrateful little shit. They make time to do stuff together, sight-seeing and fancy dinners but it’s not home and they’re both keenly aware of that. 

Pat’s sure his mom thinks she’s there to keep him focused and out of trouble, which she does. But she’s mostly there because he’s lonely. 

Patrick misses Jonny a whole fucking lot. It’s not _just_ Jonny. He misses understanding people when they speak to him most of them time. He misses food he can pronounce correctly and not getting lost in the grocery store. He misses driving. He misses the Blackhawks locker room and all the guys in it. But yeah, he can admit that he misses Jon. This is new and it sucks, kind of having to navigate it all being an ocean apart from each other. It sounds super lame, but his mom is around to talk him down from the ledge of hysteria most of the time. Or Segs, which is less talking him down and more buying him a beer and complaining so much about his drama filled life that Patrick forgets about the stressful bits of dating Jonny and goes right back to missing him. 

Overall, it’s alright considering the metric ton of suckage it all actually amounts to. 

A month into the whole thing, a package comes to the front office addressed to him. He catches Jonny’s handwriting on the little note in there and for five seconds, he actually thinks that he’s getting a knitted present but instead, it’s just three shirts. 

_“Just in case you get cold over there.”_

It’s signed JT because Jonny thinks he’s cooler than Justin Timberlake but Pat forgives him because the shirts are well worn. All three are from UND, faded from wash, and they reek of Jonny’s expensive cologne. One of them even has ‘TOEWS’ on the back. 

It’s not a shitty knitted gift, which Pat still wants because of the principle of the matter, but when his mom gives him a knowing smirk when he closes his bedroom door to Skype Jonny that night, he doesn’t feel nearly as guilty as he should.

<3<3

Now that Jonny and him are on the right track, the knitted thing doesn’t bother him as much. But he’s still curious, maybe even a little jealous because he’s nosy. Also, he hasn’t brought it up since before he left for Switzerland and that time in his kitchen doesn't really count. At least he thinks it doesn’t. Because then it wasn’t really about knitted gifts. Now it kind of is.

Emotional maturity: Pat is so doing it right. 

Pat can now entertain thoughts of Jonny learning to knit, because he's clearly awful at it and just imagining Tazer furiously wrapped up in string is a delightful thought. Seriously though, Patrick honestly can't help manically laughing to himself when he thinks about Jonny's giant hands trying to work out needles and string. There must have been so much cursing. Swear words were probably invented the first time Jonny tried to knit. He most likely set several balls of yarn on fire with the fury of his eyeballs. Patrick hopes Jonny joined a knitting club full of old ladies who judged him, plied him with sweets and lectured him about the art of crafts. The thoughts entertain him and only fuel Patrick's desire to have a Jonny-knitted item, if only to know that Tazer slaved over something so adorable for Patrick. He bets Tazer rage-knits now. He hopes there are dozens of discarded and disfigured projects lying around Jonny's house, from where he rage-knitted after a loss or perhaps not making a work-out goal. Selfishly, he hopes there are disfigured knitted shit related to missing him. 

Maybe Jonny will knit Bettman something, just a small reminder of all the pain and suffering he's caused all of them.

Patrick spends the majority of December playing absolutely amazing hockey. Him and Segs really take it to the ice and he uses all his sly, subtle ways to hint to Jonny about knitwear. There is no banging to distract him… much, because his mom is back home now and he can have Skype sex on his couch if he wants to (he does). He think he’s mostly getting away with it; casual comments about how cold the weather is, how chilly his ears get in the wind, how he misplaced the beanie his sisters gave him for his birthday. 

He’s the master.

That is until Jonny calls him out. 

“You know,” Jonny says, still pantless in the Skype window. Patrick isn’t even weirded out by Jon’s soft cock still in the frame, which is a sign of just how gone he is on Tazer because sometimes Patrick’s own soft dick sort of freaks him out. 

“Sorry what?” 

Jonny smirks and flips him off. “Pay attention! You can’t be horny again. You came so hard there is jizz in your hair.” 

Pat narrows his eyes and tries to shake out his curls. It’s possible there is come in there somewhere because Jonny had pulled out the dirty talk, his voice a steady monotone but pure filth just tumbling out and it gets Patrick every single time. 

“I was saying that if I actually give you what you want for Christmas, all the guys are going to know we’re together,” Jon says. 

“Only if you think I want a tattoo of your name on my neck,” Pat says. “Or like, a baby.” 

Jon blinks. “A baby?” 

“Stop distracting me, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“Even though you’ve been incredibly subtle,” Jonny says, rolling his eyes. “If I finish you this beanie, everyone is going to know that we’re together.” 

“You’re making me a beanie?” Patrick tries to cover his delight but it’s hard. He hopes Tazer has gotten better at knitting after all this time. He doesn’t want to have to sacrifice his fashion for Jonny. 

“Don’t even act innocent, like I couldn’t pick up the hints,” Jon scoffs. “But seriously, are you sure you want to do this?” 

“How are those things related?” 

On the screen, Jonny gets as close to squirming as it comes. Pat can see the red flush up his bare chest that he normally associates with hot sex or hot hockey. But now he can add uncomfortable feelings talk to that flush. 

“I started _crocheting_ after the first hit because I had problems falling asleep, in retrospect that should have been a sign but anyway, I made these socks. At the time, I was thinking about coming out--to the team and possibly to everyone else. Oh stop looking so surprised.”

Pat can’t help it. His mouth is gaping. “You were going to _come out as gay_ to the world?” 

“No, Pat, I was going to come out as a Vancouver fan--yes, as gay, but that’s not the point,” Jon glared, as if it was Pat’s fault this conversation got derailed. 

“Sorry, sorry. Continue.” 

“Anyway, I was over at Seabsie’s house and I just sort of told him. I had the socks with me too and I was gonna give them to him because that seemed like the sort of thing he’d like. So it was just coincidental. He was cool with it, because he’s not a total asshole and he took the socks with pretty minimal chirping.” Jonny finished. 

“So you came out to Seabs and gave him some hand knitted socks?” Only Jonny, man. Only Jonny. 

“Crocheted. And I said it wasn’t related,” Jonny says, clearly trying to take charge of the conversation again. “Two days later, Seabs cornered me and begged me to tell Duncs because of some weird secret d-man shit. So then I told Duncs but when I didn’t give him any socks, he looked really fucked up over it.”

“And then because you’re a big softy, you made him socks to match Seabs’. You enabler of crazy people!” 

“He looked so sad, Pat. You would have done it too,” Jon defends but Patrick is never letting him live this down. 

“Wait, so almost everyone on the team knows you’re gay?” Not that Pat didn’t know or anything but still. He’s feeling a little left out. 

Jonny shakes his head. “No. Then it just became a thing I did when I was injured. I made stuff for the team. Since I was so out and everything sucked, it was a way for me to be involved. At least that’s what my mom said.” 

“Your mom is pretty much always right,” Pat says. “Also, I can’t believe you had to came out to Duncs and 'crocheted' him some socks because he’s a headcase.”

Jonny shrugs, as if to say: _whatever works_. And Pat supposes he’s right. Whatever keeps them winning games. 

“So you can’t give me a beanie then?” 

Jonny scratches at his chest. “I can. It’s just that Duncs and Seabs will know that we’re together, since Seabs got it all out of me about you ages ago. After they know, it's a matter of time with a locker room full of those clowns. So you just have to decide if that’s what you want.” 

It’s not pressure. He’s got time to think it through. Pat just nods and their conversation turns to other things, which eventually turns back to sex because Jonny’s dick can only be in the picture for so long before Pat has to pay attention to it. Also his nipples.

<3<3<3

They win the Spengler cup like the bosses they are and then 2013 is upon them. New Years comes around but Patrick is still stuck in Switzerland. Him and Jonny’s schedules have been all sorts of messed up since Christmas. They’ve barely had time to speak on the phone let alone Skype. Pat’s been surviving on pastries and texts from Jonny for the past week and he’s getting real tired of it all.

He speaks with his parents on the second. They came out for Christmas and brought his sisters, which helped keep him distracted. But they’re back in the States now and Pat is tired of being in Switzerland. The allure has worn off and now he’s cold, alone and pissy. 

Jonny texts him on the 3rd and it sets Patrick on edge. 

_going into meetings. this could be it. keep your phone on you._

It’s ridiculous because Pat always has his phone on him but that’s neither here nor there. Because Jonny wouldn’t say something like this if it wasn’t close--if there wasn’t hope. Patrick packs his bags anyway but keeps them tucked up in his closet. He doesn’t want to jinx it. He goes to morning skate and tries not to act too weird. He plays hockey and hopes he gets to go home soon. 

He doesn’t hear from Jonny for two days. On the fifth, he makes up his mind. 

_i want that beanie, bastard. it better be ready when i come home._

A day later, he gets an email from Jonny. It’s a flight itinerary and in the body of the email is Jonny’s message: Your hat is ready. Get your ass home. 

Patrick does.


End file.
